


a beautiful wish (two years later)

by feldie



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Idiots in Love, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Useless Lesbians, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24447547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feldie/pseuds/feldie
Summary: Adora and Catra get married two years after they defeat Horde Prime.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 519





	a beautiful wish (two years later)

When Adora was young, she didn’t have a word for love.

She kept the feeling of it like a secret in her chest, the only thing that belonged to her. She felt it like a coal in her heart whenever Catra was close.

It seems impossible there are entire days built around a word she hasn’t known nearly long enough to know fully, but there are.

It seems even more impossible there’s a future for her so filled with it, but there is.

There is.

Mara comes to her in her dreams sometimes, and tells her she deserves it.

Adora opens her eyes in a room full of light.

She’s in Bright Moon, alone in her bedroom. The sky outside her windows is bright with a new dawn that spills like butter over the horizon. She swings her legs over the side of her bed, playing with the gold ring Catra gave her a year ago. It’s made a home on her finger, like the one Catra’s always had in her heart.

When Adora goes to stand at a window, Bright Moon is stretching awake like she is. Residents yawn in flower-filled courtyards as they start their days, and the air smells like baking bread and the ocean. Sunlight catches on the waterfall spilling over the mountain behind the castle. Gold mist plumes into the air. She drinks in the sight, promising she’ll remember it even when she isn’t here. A cool breeze catches pieces of hair that came loose from her ponytail while she slept, and she reties it all back up in a familiar motion that soothes the flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

It’s been two years since they won the Battle for Etheria, but the planet will never be quite the same. Perfuma spent an entire year growing the plants She-Ra left behind on Horde Prime’s spires, weaving them into pillars of living color. Refugees from the war built new towns around their bases, and where there used to only be metal, now there’s songs, and shops, and markets. There’s entire lives.

Mermista carried broken spaceships on the backs of waves to the middle of the ocean. She sank them there, sending them to a place where only strange creatures of the deep make their homes. Entrapta, Hordak, Wrong Hordak, and Bow have done their best to start separating their planet from the First Ones’ tech, but even if they have ten lifetimes, they won’t finish it all.

Someone knocks on her door, but they don’t wait for an answer before pushing it open. Catra barrels inside, dressed in a deep red shirt with a high collar, unbuttoned to show her collarbones and throat. Her shirt is tucked into a pair of high-waisted, dark pants. She’s let her hair grow out, and it brushes her jaw now. Glimmer and Bow come in behind her. Glimmer’s hair is cut short now, while Bow’s grown a little goatee and his hair long on top, which is tied back with a slip of purple ribbon. Their clothes complement one another’s, all shades of lavender, white, and pale gold.

“Please tell her I don’t have to wear shoes,” Catra says with a smirk before she kisses Adora good morning.

“It’s your _wedding_ ,” Glimmer says. “Please, just wear the shoes! They won’t even hurt.”

“I don’t know.” Bow puts an arm around Glimmer’s shoulder, smiling a little. “Has she even _worn_ shoes before, Glimmer? If she slips and falls…”

But Glimmer only grins. “And wouldn’t that be _so_ embarrassing for her?”

“I wore them last year at Princess Prom!” Catra hides behind Adora, putting her hands on Adora’s shoulders, and sticks her tongue out at Glimmer.

“Catra!” Glimmer leans forward like she’s going to jump over Adora to get to her. “Wear the shoes!”

“Not on your life, Sparkles!”

Adora laughs at the warmth between them, the familiarity. “I don’t know, Catra. I think I like you in shoes.”

“Not you, too,” Catra says, but she squeezes Adora’s shoulders affectionately. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Bow says, tilting his head toward the door. “You both have to start getting ready—you can’t be late to your own wedding!”

“If it’s ours,” Catra grumbles, “shouldn’t it start whenever _we_ want?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Adora turns to touch her nose to Catra’s cheek. Even after two years, she’s still amazed at how right everything feels between them, after all they both went through, and did.

But Adora understands now—sometimes, people have to split apart and grow before they can come back together in the way they’re supposed to.

Catra gives a low purr in the back of her throat at Adora’s closeness. “It _should_ be.”

“Your objections are duly and thoroughly noted.” Bow turns with Glimmer still under his arm. “Now let’s go! Scorpia’s waiting for us.”

Catra gives Adora’s shoulders another squeeze before she starts to follow them. Her hair is a little wild, tangled, but there’s a lightness to Catra’s steps, the weight of who she was gradually falling away as she’s realized who she is, and who she wants to be. Adora hadn’t realized how much she’d love this version of Catra—softer, kinder, someone who tries to be a little bit better than she was the day before.

Adora’s been here before—the details are all different, but the feeling is the same.

 _A beautiful wish_ , Horde Prime called it.

But it’s not a wish anymore.

She made it real—they all did, together.

Catra turns around and offers Adora her hand. “You coming?”

This time, when Adora reaches out, her fingers find something to hold onto.

Adora smiles softly, and her chest is tight. Her heart is so full she’s a little concerned it’s going to explode.

For so long, Adora thought she was only racing toward a destiny she couldn’t break free of, everything she was bound up in a sword and what she could offer other people. But now, the years stretch out in front of her, filled with stars and magic, and so many things she wants. Filled with a life she didn’t expect, but her friends remind her every day she deserves.

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I am.”

***

Catra pulls Adora to a stop before they reach Scorpia’s room, where Catra will get ready—where she’ll say goodbye to Adora until they see each other again in the throne room, a place so many important things in Adora’s life have happened.

Glimmer and Bow walk ahead without them, going back and forth on how they should try and style Adora’s hair. Adora smiles, knowing they’ll double back the moment they realize her and Catra are missing. They’ll only have a couple seconds.

Catra shuffles her feet, ears flattening against her head.

The sudden vulnerability surprises Adora, and she steps closer to cup Catra’s jaw in her hand. “What is it?”

Catra won’t meet her eyes. “You… still want to do this?”

But Adora hears the unspoken question: _Do you still want me?_

Adora kisses her. The motion is so sudden Catra gives a surprised squeak as their lips collide, then settle into a familiar softness, one they’ve practiced finding for two years. When Adora breaks away, she rests her forehead against Catra’s, and closes her eyes. She remembers being on her knees in the Whispering Woods, refusing to give a name to why her heart was breaking as Catra had asked her what she wanted.

Because the answer has always been _you_ , even when Adora was too afraid to say it.

“Yes,” Adora says. “I do.”

***

It’s nearly time.

Glimmer and Bow are helping Adora get ready. She’s dressed in a white-and-gold dress, they’ve fussed over her loose hair until it shines like sunlight, and carefully put her matching gold headpiece into place.

There’s love in the air between them, but there’s sadness, too.

Nothing will be the same after today. When they defeated Horde Prime, Glimmer, Bow, Catra, and Adora talked about going to space so they could bring magic back to the universe together. But as the months passed, Glimmer’s responsibilities as Bright Moon’s queen grew more demanding, and Bow’s work on separating Etheria from the First Ones’ tech is still more important than ever. It didn’t take long for them all to realize that, when Adora went to visit the stars again, Glimmer and Bow weren’t going with her.

For the first time in a long time, Etheria needs its queen and princesses to rule well far more than it needs She-Ra to help save them.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Bow asks as he fixes a piece of Adora’s hair, his eyes bright with tears. “The—the last time the Best Friend Squad is gonna—”

“Bow! It won’t be the _last_ time.” Glimmer looks at Adora, her expression fierce. “It _won’t_.”

Adora’s throat is tight, her eyes burning. “I’ll have so much to tell you when I get back.”

“I’m your queen, and I’m ordering you to return so I can hear all about it.” Glimmer’s voice shakes. “When you’re ready to come home, of course.”

Adora smiles, so proud of who her friend has become, who’s flourished with the responsibility of rebuilding her queendom after the war. “You’ll have to order Catra, too.”

“Oh, I already have.” Glimmer can’t help a fond laugh. “She said she’s never listened to anyone in her life, but she might make an exception for me.”

“She’s changed so much, hasn’t she? Like, she really wanted to become good, and she just… did.” Bow shakes his head. “That still feels weird to say.”

“I think we all know who’s responsible for that.” Glimmer gives Adora a meaningful look. “But yes. We’ve all changed.”

“Including my goatee,” Bow adds, touching his chin.

Glimmer rolls her eyes. “That, too.”

“I’m going to miss you guys so much.” Adora’s heart feels like it’s growing inside her chest, until her ribs threaten to snap with how much they’re trying to hold inside her. “I never could have done any of this without you.”

But this time, she means the words as a beginning, not an end. No matter how far away from Etheria she travels, however many planets she gives magic back to, Adora will always come home. It’s where her life is, and so many of the things she loves. She deserves to have them, too.

“You really mean it?” Glimmer asks.

There will be so many things Adora won’t be able to do without them, so many adventures they’ll get to share, and she can’t wait to find out what they are.

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I really do.”

***

Adora sneaks just outside the throne room, where everything will happen so soon, to steal a glance at what her friends have done.

It’s beautiful.

Perfuma is in the middle of growing flowers, splashing pink and green and yellow across walls of pale blue and purple. She’s already made a tapestry of flowers across the open archway around the throne, weaving together vines to make the space feel closer, more intimate. Frosta makes ice sculptures, most of them comically bad attempts at She-Ra and Catra and Adora, but when she tries to give Catra ridiculously muscular arms that make the whole thing threaten to topple over, Mermista makes her fix it. Sea Hawk runs around with his rapier, shouting every time he stabs a little piece of food off the silver trays the castle’s staff sets on tables for all the guests who’ll be arriving soon.

Entrapta and Wrong Hordak fiddle with an arch of silver-and-red tech Adora doesn’t recognize, and Entrapta screeches delightedly when the whole thing lights up—until, with a loud _pop_ , it goes dark, a bolt of electricity zips away from it, and the power smashes into an ice sculpture of a flexing She-Ra and explodes it into a hundred pieces.

“My flowers!” Perfuma yells.

“Entrapta!” Meristma shouts. “I’ve told you a hundred times! _No tech that can electrocute us at the ceremony_!”

“But Mermista!” Entrapta bounds over to her, picking up pieces of broken ice sculpture with her hair and attempting to put them back together without any success. “If I can just calibrate everything correctly, the _lights_ it’ll make—”

“No.” Mermista flicks a piece of ice off her shoulder while Frosta frowns at her ruined work. “No more.”

Wrong Hordak’s smile is so big it’s a little frightening. “Fear not! We shall not let anything else bad happen!”

The tech promptly electrocutes him, making his hair stand straight up.

“I must say!” Sea Hawk shouts with a piece of food sticking off the end of his rapier. “Your hair is _delightful_ that way.”

“Brother!” Wrong Hordak says. “Thank you!”

Mermista puts her face in her hands. “Why are you both _like_ this?”

Hidden just outside the door, Adora smiles. Her friends make Bright Moon beautiful, just by being there.

Is this everything she wants?

 _Yes_ , Adora thinks. _It is._

***

Adora stands across from Catra, and all around them, there’s love.

Glimmer is presiding over their ceremony, asking them if they both want one another enough to bind their lives together, no matter where they may end up. Bow stands at Glimmer’s right hand, holding the items Catra and Adora gave him days ago, the ones they’ll exchange at the end of the ceremony. From Adora, she gave her wing buckle, and from Catra, there’s a pin that looks like Bright Moon, the one Glimmer gifted her two days after the Battle for Etheria, to show she was a friend of the princesses. Adora knows it’s something Catra treasures, even if she’d never admit it out loud. Tiny pieces of themselves to trade like promises.

Scorpia cries loudly into a handkerchief Perfuma gives her, both of them whispering about how lovely it all is. Frosta pats Scorpia’s claw, trying to hide her smile beneath a scowl. Sea Hawk, somehow, is crying even louder while Mermista shushes him to absolutely no effect. Micah and Swift Wind are sniffling together, both trying to be quiet and not interrupt. Melog lays at their feet, eyes glowing with magic. Netossa and Spinnerella are there, too, smiling and relaxed, seated beside Castaspella and Double Trouble, who looks disinterested but fabulous in an emerald green suit. Other people from all over Etheria come to celebrate with them, to be here, to say goodbye before they leave to see the stars. 

“If this is what you both want,” Glimmer says, “then hold out your hands.”

Adora looks at Catra, who’s smiling softly. A gold-trimmed, white cloak falls off one shoulder, and Scorpia somehow managed to get Catra to brush her hair. Still no shoes, though.

This is what Adora wants.

All she has to do to make it hers is reach out one more time.

Reach for Catra.

Adora wants to. For Catra, and for herself. She wants to for them both.

Adora _wants_.

So she does.

Catra’s hands are warm when they take Adora’s. Her claws press gently against Adora’s palms. She taps one against the ring Adora’s barely taken off since the day Catra gave it to her.

Adora can’t help the tiny, relieved laugh that escapes her.

“You okay?” Catra whispers as Glimmer and Bow share a knowing look, Scorpia heaves an enormous sob, and Melog makes a curious noise.

She’s so much more than okay. This is everything she’s ever wanted or wished for. She feels so much her body isn’t big enough to hold all the promises of _tomorrows_ and _some days_ she’s making, but she’s going to make them anyway. Not because she has to, but because she wants to.

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I am.”

***

The ceremony is over, and the party goes on without them inside Bright Moon’s castle.

Their friends were sad to see them go, and everyone cried, even Mermista and Frosta, despite how they tried to hide it. Adora had been afraid Scorpia would never let Catra go, until Catra told them not to stop celebrating just because they wouldn’t be there—so Adora and Catra left their friends dancing. It’s an image Adora tucks inside her heart, everyone together and happy, a whole world of movement and magic, everything bound together by years of friendship.

But Adora is ready to see the stars.

Mara’s ship, which Entrapta and Hordak spent nearly six months fixing, waits to carry them through the universe. They’ll bring magic with them wherever they go. Behind it, the sky darkens toward evening in cobalt and sapphire, speckled with the evening’s first stars.

There’s a shimmer of purple in the air a moment before Glimmer and Bow teleport directly in front of them.

Glimmer throws herself into Adora’s arms, and Adora catches her with ease. “I know we already said goodbye, but—”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Adora says in understanding.

Glimmer wordlessly pulls Catra into the hug a moment before Bow wraps his arms around them all as best he can manage. Adora closes her eyes, letting herself sink into the safety of it, the last moment of normal she’ll know for a long time. Her heart aches with how much she loves them all.

“Best Friend Squad?” Bow asks.

“Always,” Glimmer and Adora say at the same time.

“I might even miss you guys,” Catra says. “Maybe.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Bow says. “And we’ll be waiting for you to come home.”

Glimmer kisses Catra’s cheek before they all separate. “You have to promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Catra’s face softens. She touches her cheek, the place Glimmer has made a habit of kissing whenever Catra does something unexpectedly kind. “That’s the plan.”

They all share a smile, because they’ve been here before, but everything is different.

Glimmer takes Bow’s hand in hers.

Magic turns the air to glitter with a sound like ringing bells.

And they’re gone.

Catra stands at Adora’s side, the wing buckle Adora gave her threaded onto her belt, looking up at the sky. “Gotta say, I’m a little nervous about this.”

“After today? You’re nervous about _this_?” Adora laughs, bumping Catra with her shoulder. “I thought you’d be more afraid of everyone staring at you.”

“We’ll be alone up there,” is all Catra says.

“Not alone.” Adora stares at the sky with her, wondering what they’ll find, what stories they’ll love enough to carry all the way home again. “Together.”

“Smooth of you,” Catra says with a grin.

Laughing, Adora sweeps Catra into her arms, easily taking her weight, and tucks Catra against her chest. Catra lets out a sound that’s half growl, half purr, as Adora carries her onto the space ship.

Catra is staring at her, blushing, but looking undeniably pleased at being in Adora’s arms. “You think we’re ready for this?”

After everything they’ve been through, Adora isn’t afraid anymore.

“Yes,” Adora says. “We are.”

***

Adora has never been a peaceful person, but she feels it here.

Her heart is slow, and her arms are wrapped around the person she loves more than anything. Catra’s tucked against her chest, sleeping. Their legs are tangled together, a blanket pulled up to their waists. Neither of them wanted to stay in one of the small bedrooms on board their first night, so they’re on the flight deck, blankets piled beneath them to make a bed where they can watch the stars, which flicker all around them through the ship’s viewports. The stars are all different colors—aquamarine, gold, white, silver, pale reds, soft pinks. They remind her of her friends.

Adora didn’t notice last time, when she took this ship across the universe on a very different adventure, one where she was afraid. For Glimmer, and Catra, and Bow, and everyone on Etheria—and though she didn’t admit it then, she was afraid for herself, and how she was hurtling toward a destiny she couldn’t escape and didn’t understand.

Adora rests her chin on top of Catra’s hair. She counts her own heartbeats. She counts the stars, and how many breaths Catra takes. She tries to count how many memories she has where she feels loved—for being _Adora_ , not for being She-Ra and having magic that can save so much—but there’s too many now, and she can’t keep track of the number.

That brings her peace, too.

Catra stirs against her chest, blinking awake in a sea of stars. Her tail curls around Adora’s thigh. “Adora? You up?”

Adora nods. Her heartbeat has never been so at ease before.

Catra nuzzles closer, putting an arm over Adora’s waist so she can scratch Adora’s back the way Adora likes. She kisses the hollow of Adora’s throat, her voice rough with sleep but still teasing. “Can’t sleep? Thinking too much about how you love me?”

Adora can’t see it, but she knows Catra is smirking, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I am.”

Adora didn’t have a word for this feeling before, the one she used to keep a secret, but can’t anymore because it burns in her chest for so many people. She has a whole life of it, and she intends to live it the way she wants.

Because her destiny has never been a sword—it’s always been this.

It’s always been love.


End file.
